


Truth & Dare

by JenovaVII



Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-06-12
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:39:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JenovaVII/pseuds/JenovaVII
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Akihito. I want to play a game." Every once or twice a week, Asami and Takaba play a single round of 'Truth Or Dare'. With a gun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue ~ The Pick Up Song ~

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: Sometime during Volume 7 - Pray In Abyss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thou art free and I am free  
> And there is a night to pass .  
> Why not go together ,  
> Why not go stay  
> In the adventure of the senses .
> 
> Thou art alone and I even lonelier am ,  
> Thou who hast my gaze ;  
> You have my open hand,  
> Waiting for it to close  
> In that desert hand of yours .
> 
> Come that love  
> Isn ' t the time ,  
> Nor is it the time  
> What makes it .  
> Come that love  
> Is the moment  
> In which I give myself ,  
> In which you give yourself .
> 
> Thou who seekest company ,  
> And I who seek whoever wants  
> To be the end of this energy ,  
> To be a body of pleasure ,  
> To be the end of one more day .
> 
> You are still waiting  
> For the best that no longer comes ,  
> And the hope was found  
> Before you by someone ,  
> And I am better than nothing .
> 
> "Canção do Engate" aka "Pick Up Song", by António Variações. Translated from Portuguese.

The secret room that can be accessed through the main bedroom (and that Takaba always thinks of with a miscellaneous of conflicted emotions, raging from fear to lust, and pretty much everything that not fondness in between) isn't the only hidden division built within the penthouse.  
  
Inside the fortress that is Asami Ryuuichi (and, still very much reluctantly and strongly denied, Takaba Akihito)'s castle -- most specifically now referring to the four walls that englobe Asami's study -- there inhabits yet another room which lies in waits to be discovered.

Well... _used_ _to_ lie in wait, is more like it. Not anymore.

Being the free spirited, owner of a particular and ever growing sense of adventure, as well as of a severe lack of self awareness and sense of dread, Takaba Akihito had already sniffed _It_ out and single minded'ly selected _It_ as his next target.

It was with great surprise and, due to previous experiences, a great lot of hesitation slashed with anticipation that he reacted to the shadowed room which had suddenly popped in front of him from, literally, _nowhere_ as he stumbled upon some sort of lever, that then induced the disclosure of the secret, while he was very dutifully and not at all fussing or looking for suspicious clues, lashing out the dust from Asami's bookshelves one fine evening.

At first he wanted to run. He might possess incredibly sharp senses concerning certain and diverse aspects, and be a tad slow on the uptake once in a while, but his survival instincts were usually what got him out of even deeper trouble when everything else failed him: ' _Bolt_ _before_ _you_ _even_ _think_ _.'_  
  
Asami would mock him had he heard his not-even-logical life-guiding quote, and say something about Takaba ending up doing the same whether he actually thought about the issue or simply went with the flow. Well, fuck _him_. Just to contradict Asami, and because really, was the guy such a freaking pervert that he had to have two damn perverted rooms filled with all kinds of perverted tools suited to engage in perverted activities? He forced his memory slots into forgetting the question he had just made himself, because: _No_ _,_ _Asami_ _didn_ _'_ _t_ need _to_ _,_ _but_ _he_ _most_ _certainly_ would _._ _He_ _'_ _s_ _just_ _that_ _kind_ _of_ _freak_ _,_ _after_ _all_ _._  
  
But because his first urge was to get away from his new found discovery as quickly as he could, he willed himself to stay. He'd prove himself to Asami by proving Asami wrong. He'd one up the shrewd yakuza on this. Takaba was putting his feet down and he was most definitely not about to step back on it.

The camera bearing youth had wormed himself through the until then unknown corridor and followed the path as the small light bulbs -- round little spheres attached high up, right in the long crease between wall and ceiling -- illuminated the way as he walked by. Motion sensors. He shouldn't be surprised. He shouldn't, after everything he's seen and been through with his 'room mate'. But he was. A little.

...And he grudgingly admitted it was kind of cool.  
  
Come on, Takaba _was_ a bit of a nerd, in the way that he absolutely loved heroes and superpowers, and comic books, and shoot'em and beat'em-up games, and trashy action movies. And hell, he _was_ a kid a heart but he'd be fucking damned if he'd agree with The Bastard on it. Every time he called him a brat, every time he ruffled his hair.  
  
And even though he did sort of -- maybe -- kind of enjoy the 'ruffling the hair' part, he didn't care for being taken care of and worried for as if he was a person incapable of working their own life out by themselves. He was his own person and he lived his life exactly how he wished.  
  
He strived for Asami to see that, to accept that -- to accept him how he was, and not attempt to change him and mold him to his taste. Then again, the blond also knew he liked the danger and the trill and the rush of adrenaline his line of work never failed to inject up his spine. That _Asami_ never failed to inject up his spine, no pun intended. That sure fifty-fifty halved shiver of damnation and excitement.

He can never let go of of the memory of it -- his awakening.  
  
It was _then_ _:_ when Asami entered his life. A force of Nature. A whirlwind of a man that dragged with him a ton of occurrences and feelings and acquaintances, some of them -- most of them -- not at all, _if_ at all welcomed. And realizations; realizations about himself, about the World, that he would never have arrived at had the powerful figure that is Asami Ryuuichi never come rushing in and destroying and re-building great part of his mental and physical surroundings.  
  
It had been a chaotic revolution and it was more painful than anything he had ever experienced. And it was ecstasy. The best kind he had ever had, and Takaba had had his fare share of, well, 'narcotic experimentation' in his teens. (He wouldn't call himself a delinquent per see but... actually delinquent _is_ a pretty good concept to describe the self he was those years ago, so... yes, lets stay at that.)

The chain of unfortunate thoughts was momentarily shaken out of his mind as he took in what lied ahead. Expectations? What for? In the end, Asami always took a handful of everything Takaba believed, or thought he believed in, and shredded it to tiny, unrecognizable pieces of nothing. Even when he wasn't in the nearest surroundings. The fucking prick. When the photographer actually expected (not because he actually _wanted_ one, no, it's just what all the factors pointed him at and led him to expect) to get a mini S&M Club to Asami's (and his own) personal use, what does he get?

...A small room. Well, 'small' in Asami's standards. (And since when does Takaba make use of Asami's standards in his comparisons...?)

Imagine Asami's bathroom; spacious and elegant and pale and more or less the size of Takaba's old apartment in its entirety. This 'small' room was only the slightest bit smaller than Asami's gigantic bathroom. The walls of it were dark - Takaba thought the color might be purple but that's not quite it; he remembered there's some tongue-wrapping French word to it, but he didn't quite care at the moment to scratch his brain cells for it. Tongue-wrapping did remind him of Asami, though. Asami's kisses to be more precise, and he felt his body starting to react to the thoughts of it. He _so_ did _not_ need that right now...

Takaba closed his eyes and shook his head from side to side for a second, refreshing his thoughts, before resuming his mission. A round table situated exactly at the center, as if draw from above with a compass. Takaba wouldn't put it behind Kirishima to do just that, and he had the perfectly clear mental image of the dark suit-cladded man pushing his glasses up his nose bridge as he admired his own handiwork and deemed it perfect and befitting of 'Asami-sama'. The blond couldn't help snorting nor the grin that took over his face from ear to ear.

In close vicinity to the table there were two chairs and a floor lamp. Simple objects of just-short-of-black wood. The lamp was tall and beautiful, the bulb surrounded by a blood-red, soft-looking covering. And that was it for the only furniture decorating the room. Takaba took a step further and the lamp switched on. Every light that had lit up on the corridor behind him went off simultaneously.

The first time seeing _It_ left Takaba confused, baffled. The sole question, although in some variations, floating from neuron to neuron being: _"_ _What_ _'_ _s_ _the_ _purpose_ _of_ _this_ _room_ _,_ _what_ _is_ _it_ _for_ _?"._ And the thing was: he was fairly sure the 'Interrogation Room' didn't exist before. It was new. Like a-week-old new, perhaps. It still smelled of paint and varnish, and the polished surface freaking _sparkled_. So Asami had had it built while the photographer was already living there and he hadn't even noticed it. Awesome. Not that there was anything to be chin-dropping surprised about, after all this time. Takaba knew; _everyone_ who had a hint of a tea-spoon of brain knew: Asami was a sneaky, _sneaky_ son of a bitch.  
  
Rewinding a bit, now.  
  
'Interrogation Room'. That is how Takaba took to calling _It_ \- the damned hidden division. Seeing as he had had one, or two, or maybe more (and he refused to acknowledge it as fantasizing) premonitions of himself being tied up to one of those plush chairs; not with ropes, not with chains, nor even with Asami's silky and cologne-scented Tie Of The Day.  
  
Asami had no need to use objects of the physical realm to cage Takaba, not anymore. Those eyes, they were enough for him to bind Takaba by his side for a long, long time (and that is not to say something cliché or risking being cheesy). So it wouldn't take much effort - _any_ effort - pinning him to a chair in an amicably, pretty looking room (even if a little scary and, erm, threatening?) for a few minutes, or even a few hours, just to ask him a couple of questions.  
  
Only being questioned by Asami shouldn't awake in him both feelings of reluctance _and_ desire. Desire shouldn't be in there _at_ _all_ _._ But Asami didn't need to know any of that. Takaba sure as well would not, in this life, tell him. Asami is a very smart man, incredibly so, and Takaba isn't stupid in the least; he knows that as much as he tries to hide his attraction, it can never be entirely subdued.  
  
He also knows what he is completely incapable of masking. He knows it well, what transpires from him, just as he doesn't miss the little signs that peek out from under Asami's tightly coiled barrier of control. It makes him feel good, and warm, whenever he gets to catch such gestures from his lover and he isn't so selfish as to not let himself give back at least as much. It works for them; showing they care with their not-so-subtle cycle of 'action and reaction', with no need to have big acclamations and heart felt confessions. _Much_ _less_ heart felt confessions.

Takaba had never had much interest in romance. He'd dated a few girls, he'd messed around, he'd had fun and got into trouble, being the rascal he was. He never had interest in anything serious. He fell in an out of love once, the one time he actually started to feel that he could get serious in a relationship.  
  
But in those early years Takaba already _lived_ for Photography, and he guessed love really just wasn't that big a deal, not strong enough after all. It ended up being over more abruptly than any time he might have been fooling around. It didn't hurt him much, it didn't impact him much, he didn't miss it much. After that he got even less interested in romantic relationships. It just wasn't for him, he though, the commitment -- having to belong to a person and having a person belong to him. He didn't get it and it didn't appeal to him, that kind of dependence, that kind of responsibility. He was an idealist, and an artist. Above everything else he loved freedom and being able to breathe.  
  
After that he took his camera work more seriously, instead of being just a passion, and decided to make a living out of it. He changed his kind of trouble but not by much; he still borrowed transportation vehicles and entered restricted residences without the proprietor's authorization; he still did it for the pleasurable feeling it provoked and ripped right into and from his core, for the sweat down his forehead and the breeze of wind through his hair; but from then he had the bonus of getting money from risking his well fare.  
  
His dad approved it, proud of his son that was born with the same longing to see through the viewfinder as himself. His mother was used to living with and bringing up wild things, and she liked caring for them - otherwise, there was no way she would have settled down with a wild life-dedicated Photographer and followed him all around the World, wherever he went, wherever it took them. Takaba finished High School without failing a single year and, even though he wasn't on top of the class -- something to do with jumping around the city snapping pictures instead of siting at the desk flipping book pages -- but was far above the average student. There were no doubts in his mind as he ingressed into the path of Arts and straight into the Photography field, where Madarame-sensei immediately -- recognizing his untamable talent -- took him under his wing, infusing into him all of his knowledge.  
  
Takaba had had an unstable but undoubtedly happy childhood, a family who supported him and had never had any real problems. That life style extended itself until the day that would turn his entire World into disarray. Again, the day he met the man that he would presently be willingly cohabiting with. flooded his mind with reminiscence. The day he met his lover; the man that made him -- makes him -- and will, for certain, continue to make him question his own sanity.

Takaba doesn't even question his sexuality, that matter is... He doesn't deny being able to be attracted to other specimens of the male gender expect Asami, Fei Long did turn him on after after all. The guy _was_ pretty. But then again his beauty was feminine. He looked like a woman no matter how you looked at it. (ah, wait, if you looked at his dick then... yeah.)  
  
Okay, the only _man_ aside from Asami to whom he was physically attracted had been a feminine guy, but a guy nonetheless, so Takaba had no issues assuming he was bisexual; it was the logical conclusion to arrive at.  
  
After Fei Long though, Takaba had never been drawn to any other man sexually. Discovering he was capable of batting for the other team didn't make him go outside and start checking guys out. Not that in all those years he though himself purely straight he had been doing that with girls either, because he didn't. When someone caught his eye, she caught his eye, but he never went around with the intention of looking for it.  
  
But he _did_ ogle Asami up and down whenever he had the chance. So Takaba decided that he was not only, generally speaking, a bisexual man but he had, in particular: a normal thing for women-women, plus a small, one-time thing for women with dicks, plus a really big thing for Asami.  
  
So... mostly heterosexual, say seventy percent; and the remaining thirty homosexual. He figures Fei Long was mostly a woman anyway, and his dick had to had a value of approximately five percent (and that was Takaba being sympathetic about the whole thing) into the second group; and then he was pretty much sure he was gay for Asami exclusively -- at least until the date.  
  
Asami, who had the remaining of the twenty five percent of Takaba's homo'ness all to himself. That should make the beast proud.

...Reminiscing never did Takaba any good, however, and he didn't think it would start now. Better stop before something internal cracks under the pressure.

All that browsing -- both within the solidity of the room, as well as within the imaginary yet entirely real shields of his mind -- didn't give Takaba the answer he sought. One thing he did know: Asami was having the time of his life making Takaba and his curious, cat-like mind wonder _and_ wander around in circles aimlessly, uselessly, without results for his inner self-interrogation; until stubbornness was K.O.'d by his curiosity and he went for trustworthy sources for information.

When Kirishima shot him down with some formal wording-wrapped sorry-ass-of-an-excuse that he didn't bother to listen to after the initial word of blunt rejection, and Suoh plain and simply ignored him, giving the younger man his best stone gargoyle imitation ever (seriously, Takaba deemed the whole thing Notre-Dame-worthy) which gained him a kick to the shin as payback; the feisty young man slammed the door to Asami's office, huffing like a worn out horse after a race and... _demanded_ to know the reason of the existence of The Room.  
  
Such a harmless looking room... it _had_ to be some kind of trick. And it was driving him crazy.

"You just love fucking with my head, don't you?"

"Not _only_ your head, though I certainly won't deny the truth in that statement."

Takaba didn't think he still had it in him to explode in scarlet but Asami, once again, proved him wrong. He also didn't get a straight answer out of the other man, not even after they got home.

*  
  
Takaba took a legless living-being from her house of plastic with familiarity and draped _her_ around his shoulder as he dived, and drowned, into the jello-like softness of the couch. He crossed his legs in a lotus position, his expression a joint project between a pout and a frown.

Asami inwardly smiled at that - at the fact that petting a seven feet long snake was Takaba's anti stress device.

Smoke not only filled Takaba's airways, but also appeared at his peripheral vision. He didn't acknowledge Asami, as the older male took a seat beside him. Ashura hissed softly and rounded the blond head once before slithering through the back of the couch to entrance herself around her other owner.

If snakes could purr she would, with Asami's elegant fingers tracing patterns on the symmetric mosaics of her just-days-ago renewed skin. The yakuza could sense Takaba's impatience. The kid's toes thundered involuntarily against the air, his frustrated sighs made his nostrils flare slightly and he couldn't very well disguise the gaze he threw at his lover for three seconds at a time before hastily turning away.  
  
Asami knew he had startled him when he rose then, getting up, Ashura hugging his form. He gathered his discarded jacket from the arm of the bergère to his right and strolled to the bedroom with a: "Come." on his lips.

 _Obeying_ to the fucking _order_ was the last thing Takaba wanted to do. He wanted to yell and bristle for all he was worth and do the exact opposite of what the dark-haired man had commanded. But his radar went off, screaming at him that if there was even a _slight_ possibility of getting his curiosity sated then...

He was on his feet not a second later, following behind Asami as the taller man fastidiously hanged his clothes, then left the sleeping chambers and made his way to the division across the hall that was, without shadow of doubt, the study. Takaba swallowed. His mouth had ceased the production of saliva. He was high and dry, in the literal sense of the phrase, and the anticipation, the feeling of anxiety was killing him.

Revealed the not-so-hidden-anymore passage, Takaba found himself for the second time looking around the minimalistic space. Already, Asami occupied one of the chairs and, as Takaba finally got his whole body and soul into the room, he had started pulling up one of the legs of his trousers. Takaba observed transfixed as the handsome brunette grabbed the six millimeter revolver from the leg holster that hugged his perfectly crafted limb, and then rested it on the table with a gentle thud.  
  
Asami was talking before the mind-spinning boy had the gal to use his mouth for speaking up after the minutely show of gaping like a fish. A reptile head nudged Asami's neck and showed Takaba her tongue.

"Akihito. I want to play a game."  



	2. Round 1: Ready? Set... Go!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've missed this story's first installment (the prologue), check it out first. Yes, having a snake as a pet is legal. And yes, even if it wasn't and he wanted it, Asami would have one, regardless. And I'm a horror movie fanatic so allusions may come and go, either on purpose or sometimes involuntary.

  
  
"...Whoa, you totally sounded like that puzzle ol' man just n - _-_ _Hey_ , have you been re-watching SAW without me? _!_ I _told_ _you_ I wanted to do it together _!"_

Asami stifled a laugh. "I will proceed to inform you of the rules now. Won't you take a seat? Or do you plan on standing up the whole time?"

"Hey, I haven't said I'd play yet - _-_ "

"Oh? Afraid, are you?"

It was infuriating, and Takaba knew he shouldn't fall for it even when he knew he was being purposely led on but...

The sound was painful - _-_ the creaking the chair made - _-_ as Takaba fell on it with all of his dead-weight. Fumming already, he crossed his arms across his chest. "'Course not, stupid _!_ Are _you_ sure you wanna play games with me? I'm good, ya know? I was pretty popular at the Arcade, scored number one at more than half the games there."

"Sure, you did. At any rate, this game is very different from the ones you are used to. We'll be playing a variation of 'Truth Or Dare'."

"What's the big deal, I've played 'Truth Or Dare' countless ti - _-_ "

"I said: a _variation_ of 'Truth Or Dare'. If you'd stay quiet and listened for once..."

" _Okay_ , I get it, okay? Jus'spit it out, already."

"Basically, it works exactly like the original. The player will have to choose at least one 'dare' for each three times 'truth' is chosen."

"Tch, sounds completely like the old thing to me...", Takaba muttered disdainfully as he looked to the side, rolling his eyes. The tapping of his feet, impatient, anxious, on the floor. It echoed.

"Also, the player is absolutely not allowed to lie. It is _strictly_ forbidden."

Somehow... that didn't sound good for Takaba's health. The blond swallowed, dry. Maintained eye-contact, not sure if it was good idea, but thinking best to take on the beast directly than let it catch him unaware by the flanks or from behind.

"...So what if we lie?"

" _If_ _you_ lie...", Asami drawled, as his fingertips thundered gently against the cold metal of the weapon. "...that is where it differs from the game system you are acquainted with. And that is when _this_ _lady_ comes into and plays her role."

The photographer's eyes widened significantly. "That's not a real one... right...?"

Asami handed him the gun and made a gesture that spelled: _"_ _Please_ _,_ _see_ _for_ _yourself_ _."_ , which Takaba did and - _-_ _Fuck_ _._ - _-_ it _was_ the real thing. "We won't use this, right? It's not loaded, _right_?"

"We will, and it isn't."

Takaba visibly relaxed, disregarding the first part, focusing on the last. Wrong move.

"Yet.", comes the counter attack, relentless, while the iron is still hot.

"Have you finally snapped? Is that it?"

"What are you so worried about, Akihito? The only thing you have to do is not to lie."

And the Devil smiled.

"We're only two people so there is no need to turn the bottle or, in our case, turn the gun. We'll take turns. We can simply decide who starts peacefully or throw a coin. We'll keep a log of the game status, a notebook if you wish. It'll be kept with you at all times, you'll bring it and take it with you each time we make use of this room. Just so you'll have no doubts I'm not cheating cheat or altering the results."

"What... what about if _I_ cheat?

Takaba's gangster boyfriend _smiled_. "I trust you."

He visibly shuddered. Normally one would be overjoyed for being told they were trustworthy, but (even though there was a part of him that was undeniably happy that Asami did trust him) he just couldn't shake off the dark, ominous feeling that came with it. A bit of pink still bloomed across his cheeks. "So... you want to start now...?"

"Why, yes. Would you rather we start with the 'beginner' mode? Akihito."

Takaba's nostrils flared. _Don_ _'_ _t_ _look_ _down_ _on_ _me_ _,_ _bastard_ _._

Asami stood, his tall figure as intimidating as attractive, and Takaba jerked, startling at the non-expected movement. The dark-haired man secured the cigarette with his lips and took Ashura from his own shoulders to drap her around Takaba's.

Takaba was answering the provocation as Asami disappeared through the corridor and he spoke loudly in his general direction, "No - _-_ Hey, where are you going?"

It's not like he was _afraid_ of being alone in the still-suspicious (or even more so now) room. Not at all. Takaba just didn't appreciate being left mid-conversation without even a: _"_ _Excuse_ _me_ _." ._ Wasn't Asami supposed to be this... model of politeness? Tch, more like 'rudely polite'. Always using fancy words to talk condescendingly to and about others. Straight-forward, yes, but in such a way people were lead to believe they were being complimented and it still left them with a feeling that they were being bluntly accused of being stupid and that there was no helping them.

Takaba thought maybe he hadn't been heard, but then the answer came when Asami was already coming back, his response seen before it was heard, what with the ashtray now being carried in Asami's hand and the notebook and pen that were dropped onto the desk. The ash was tipped into the crystalline object with a slow nudge.

"Miss me already?", he incensed the other male, smirking around the filter.

 _Arrogant_ _,_ _irritating_ _,_ _selfish_ _prick_ - _-_ "No. Better to get real from the start. Lets go from 'normal' and make our way up to 'hardcore'. Though, if _you_ would rather start on 'rookie' level..."

"Perfect. Toss the coin, it is. Heads or tails?", the yakuza questioned and slipped a round of silver out of his pocket. Showed it to Takaba, hoisting it a bit from side to side, between his indicator and middle finger.

 _The_ _way_ _he_ _says_ _it_ _sounds_ _like_ _instead_ _of_ _heads_ _or_ _tails_ _he_ _'_ _s_ _makin_ _'_ _me_ _choose_ _between_ _head_ _or_ _ana_ - _-_ _Ugh_ _,_ _I_ _'_ _m_ _too_ _long_ _gone_ _into_ _his_ _trap_ _already_ _..._ He squinted and whooshed his weird thoughts away with a shake of the head, light-brown locks going wild. There was hissing at his ear; a comforting, heavy weight slithering and squeezing around his middle. "I'm surprised crime lords carry such miser amounts on their pockets. Tails."

Asami graciously flicked the coin up and caught it. The chair screeched slightly, as it was pulled back and sat on. "Why, Akihito. It seems like you have the head-start: it's your turn first."

That evil glint in Asami's eye was pretty skillful at making sailor knots with Takaba's gut without even touching it with hands that it didn't possess. Sweat drops permeated his face, down his neck.

This was getting bad, really bad, Takaba thought, and it hadn't even _really_ started yet. The worry of not getting out of the room mentally-stable (as much as he can be) started to grow.

"Truth or dare, Akihito? And don't worry, despite this first result being already taken into account, this first time is more of a trial, for you to see how it works and clarify doubts you might have."

Asami looked very amused; amused like he was when Takaba gave into something for him, amused like he was when he had just done something _bad_. Takaba's dread had never been more proportional to Asami's amusement as it was at that moment. The more the curve of Asami's lip lift up, the more Takaba's nails had the impulse of scratching something off. Preferably themselves.

"T... truth...", he tried to sound confident. Failed miserably at it. Got an elegant snort for the attempt. Didn't make him feel any better.

"Predictable. Now: is it true that you have, various times in the past wished, still wish in the present time, that you had never met me?"

It seemed like suddenly they had moved to the South Pole because Takaba was convinced he could actually see flightless penguins circling around his head and he was frozen in place, an invisible layer of ice creeping around him.

"...I thought I'd said normal-to-hard, not the other way around...? And no matter how you look at it, that was way too fast _!_ Do you have everything planned already? Every truth and dare you're gonna drop on me mapped out?"

"That wouldn't be very fair of me, now would it?", he asked as he handled the revolver by the barrel, slipped a bullet into the cartridge chamber and rolled the cylinder back into place with quick precision. Takaba's eyes didn't deviate from the elegance of those fingers as they worked the firearm.

Half hypnotized, he somehow managed to mumble an answer that wasn't needed, so obvious it was, "No, it wouldn't. That's why you did it."

Golden-brown orbs lifted from the weapon to Takaba's face. "You don't want me to coddle you, do you? Treat you like a child, go easy on you? Well then, I'm not, and I won't."

"...Have I told how much I hate when you're nice to me?"

Asami's mouth smirked; his eyes smiled. "Every time."

"Ugh. So, how much time do I have to answer, and stuff?"

"You may give your answer any time, from immediately to the day prior to the next round. The same for starting to fulfill a dare."

"You being considerate seriously creeps the hell out of me... And we can jump to your turn now?" _I_ _'_ _ll_ _show_ _you_ _,_ _Asami_ _._ _I_ _'_ _m_ _not_ _the_ _only_ _one_ _who_ _'_ _s_ _predictable_ _._

"Yes. I believe you would like to alleviate your stress, seeing as my question wasn't to your liking. Dare what you will." A fine line of smoke with curly ramifications cut softly through the air in an arch, as Asami made a motion for him to go ahead with his hand.

 _Ha_ _,_ _I_ _knew_ _it_ _!_ _But_ _still_ _manages_ _to_ _piss_ _me_ _off_ _,_ _the_ _annoying_ _asshole_ _..._ "Thank you very much for being such a thoughtful bastard.", Takaba hissed between gritted teeth, forcing a smile with it and looking weird as fuck. He looked thoughtful himself, as his brows came together and his wicked thoughts started swimming around. And then it came to him, a lamp lightning up above his head.

One of Asami's own eyebrows rose in relative curiosity of what was to come, as a grin took over the younger man's expression.

" _I_ _dare_ _you_ , Asami, to eat one sweet thing per day. While you quit smoking _and_ drinking. For a month."

Asami didn't even flinch. He was reactionless, his eyes on Takaba, his smirk still in place as he reached for the table and stubbed his half-smoked cigarette. "You asked me once, when we first met - _-_ I had just shoved a film up your rear - _-_ how I could be so cruel. Akihito, you _do_ take pleasure in taking a chance at killing me slowly, do you not. Merciful would be unloading that gun at my skull until the single bullet inside took me out of my misery. But you won't. Because not only are you a hopelessly-in-denial masochist, you're also a closeted sadist."

He took his carton of Dunhill off of his pocket; unblemished even thought constantly abused, stumbling about in the confines of the fabric all day long. It was carefully put atop the table. Then, with one finger, pushed away from him, stopping only when right in front of Takaba, not an inch away from his reach.

Takaba grinned then, accepting the package, accessing it for a while while playing with it in hand. He looked right through it at the older male. "How sharp, Asami. Or is it because it's a situation so familiar to you that it took you such a short time to pick up on it? Although, in your case, it's reversed. And you're as close to denying your sadism as a pig is from flying."

"..." Asami just narrowed his eyes at him, the hint of his amusement present at the corner of his mouth.

"Hit right home, huh.", Takaba snickered.

"Oh, yes, there is a clause I have yet to mention. There is the option to forfeit; to refuse to answer to a truth, to refuse to comply to a dare. Not completing a turn equals punishment. The same punishment as lying."

Hazel eyes widened. "You don't mean..."

"I do. In such cases, it will be required the use of the revolver. I will come to this room with two bullets. At the beginning of the round, one bullet will be loaded. Should the player refuse...", the rich baritone kept on exposing in detail the disturbing procedure. Takaba listened, unfortunately unable to turn off his auditory system, wondering irrationally if there wasn't a single chance of their adorable Boa constictor developing venom and just... bite and pump it right into his jugular. Otherwise, he knew there was no way to turn back from what he had throw himself into.

Curiosity really does kill the cat. How many lives did he have left, he wondered. Should have kept count. Looks down at the notebook. Feels like ripping a couple of sheets, smash them good and fill Asami's disaster-harbinger mouth full of paper.

*

Takaba had one third of his satisfaction at coming up with such a good challenge for Asami taken away from him much too soon, when after dinner Asami opened the fridge, took a bright-green apple _and_ _drawled_ _: "_ _The_ _sooner_ _the_ _start_ _,_ _the_ _fastest_ _it_ _passes_ _by_ _."._

The crunch of perfect, white teeth on the fruit. The colorless drop of juicy sliding down Asami's chin. The tongue that slipped and caught the droplet before it fell. The hateful smirk that filled his expression.

Asami proved that not only he wouldn't let himself show Takaba a tinge of dissatisfaction at his dare, but would also twist words as much as possible to his advantage. And look disturbingly sexy while doing it. _No_ _one_ had the right to look lewd while eating a piece of fruit.

He wished the acid flavor of the apple would have some kind of chemical reaction with Asami's own stomach fluids and give him hell for thirty days.

*

Two days later Asami was working when FF VII's battle theme song played. Seemed like the brat had taken his cellphone hostage and changed his ring tone _yet_ _again_.

He didn't excuse himself as he left the table and the four board members to Kirishima, who immediately took the reins and resumed the presentation of the monthly renovation without missing a beat, not giving them a second to question Asami's actions. Not that they would have.

As soon as he was out of the door he was answering, lips curving, free hand delving into his trousers pocket. His zippo touched playfully, played around by fingers as his back leaned against the wall. There was a Picasso dangling on the wall in front of him. Fake, he knew. He had the original.

"Asami."

"Got a minute? I've got your answer."

A pleasant feeling settles on him. Hesitation, longer wait and denial were expected from Takaba. This shy and direct approach, of the boy's own volition, tasted like a good dose of double scotch. On the rocks. Fresh, with a slight bite. He grunted briefly in the affirmative.

"I..."  
  
A throat being cleared on the other side of the line. He was certain Takaba was at home, possibly fidgeting while starting dinner preparations, by the clanging of pans; the phone trying to slip from him, where it lay trapped between ear and shoulder. Then it must have been picked up properly in hand, Takaba must have seated himself on the counter and closed his eyes. He heard the deep breath.

"I... Yes, it's true. As I'm sure you know. I... have thought of it a lot. But even so I think I haven't thought of it nearly enough. I hated, what you'd done to me, hated you... Or I thought I did sometimes while others really did. I still do, by the way. Hate you, that is. I'm also grateful to you. Just a little _!_ For making me see things aren't always totally wrong nor totally right. That there are things... things in between that can't be categorized and... and they're important, those things. So it's true, yeah. But it's in the past. I no longer thing of it now. Either way... _!_ I don't regret having met you. Now. So..."

Asami wanted a cigarette. Wanted it bad. He took his zippo away from the darkness and flicked it open and close with the thud of his heartbeat. One day apart from nicotine already; twenty nine days left. No problem, he'd been miles away from a far larger addiction for more than two months before. This was nothing.

"...So, hm, are you leaving wherever or... finishing whatever you're doing anytime soon? I... don't feel like cooking anymore."

He pocketed the lighter. Made his way back to the meeting room. "Order out something. I won't be long."

He could feel the Takaba's tiny smile through the quiet: _"'_ _Kay_ _."_ before he hang up. He mirrored it.

*

Asami bit his nipple. Hard. Takaba hissed.

"Shit _!_ " A tongue licked the abused bud gently. " _Nghh_ , hurtss..."

Asami kept lapping at it. Like a big, elegant cat (paper-like tongue not included). The fucker.

"Hn. It hurts, does it? Want me to stop?"

 _Yeah_ _,_ _right_ _._ _As_ _if_ _you_ would. And Asami bit it. Again. " _Ah_ _!_ Told you... hurts _!_ Bastard... so... good..."

Takaba couldn't help squirming and arching, pushing up his chest further into Asami's mouth. He felt the wet smirk like a hell-smoldering brand against his skin. In a second Asami had swooped up and was devouring him his mouth, robbing him of air, of saliva, of strenght, of resistance; leaving behind only tingling spikes of a feeling _so_ _good_ and _tight_ _,_ coiling low on his belly.

Takaba could only lay himself bare to be ravished and pleasured.

"Are you deliberately seducing me today, Akihito? Be careful; I'll eat you up."

"Ha. You _always_ do. Gimme your worst, old man.", Takaba panted, almost out of breath.

He stopped breathing when Asami's throat welcomed his lenght deep inside.

*

"I'm home.", Takaba greeted into the hallway, as usual, whether he was alone or Asami had already gotten back from work. His rucksack dropped to the black carpet with a soft sound, his sock-cladded feet striding to the living-room.

"Welcome back."

Not alone, then.

Asami's silky, dark combed back strands were visible above the back of the couch. Takaba tip-toed just for the hell of it and lunged for his target when he was close enough. A palm to each side of Asami's face and tugged him up for an upside-down kiss.

He was panting softly and grinning when they parted. "Clear _!_ Day Eleven without D &S'ing."

Coming up with useless and idiotic denominations was one of Takaba's favorite past-times, and so the pleasurable actions of drinking and smoking were meshed and re-named at his will. Even though he forcefully said it wasn't true, the boy _was_ whimsical. One more proof of it was the method he had adopted to make sure his chain-smoker-in-withdrawal of a lover wasn't cheating: checking the inside of his mouth thoroughly with his own. Just sniffing Asami's clothes, hands and breath wouldn't do, the boy had said. Asami found it entirely too amusing.

"You can have your daily sweet now ~ _Oh_ _no_ _,_ I just remembered we've run out of fruit, this morning, when I made fruit salad with everything I could find and ate it all at lunch _!_ Fortunately...", Takaba dramatized and singed, obviously in a good mood, as he made a run to the entrance (giving the other a good view of his round ass, the tights jeans hugging it to the maximum) and snatched his bag back with him, seating himself on the low coffee table, his knees knocking Asami's; blue denim rubbing against black wool. "I have this totally-not-bought-on-purpose, extra-large bar of delicious chocolate _!_ Wow, aren't you lucky?"

Asami _almost_ felt bad for destroying the boy's fun. _Ha_ , who was he kidding...?  
  
"My apologies." ' _Sincerest_ apologies' he didn't say, because they weren't sincere in the least and he wasn't in the habit to lie; only occasionally concealing or carrousel'ing the truth, perhaps, when the situation called for it. But he didn't feel like it anyway. "But I took the liberty of bringing a little something back with me. I wouldn't want to risk not being able to continue my dare and disappoint my cute Akihito, now would I?"

He slipped a peppermint gum into his mouth and offered one to Takaba, who fumed and gripped the candy bar until it snapped and rustled with the aluminum-foil wrapping until the brown threat was in sight and sank his fangs into it.

Crossing his legs, the taller man chuckled, "You're too stressed, Akihito. Too many sweets are bad for your health, you know."

He dared blowing and popping a huge, pale-green bubble. The vein in Takaba's forehead popped with it.

 

 


	3. Round 1x ~ Night Of The Hunter ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> × = { 1, … , 9 }. Taking into account they play 2-3 rounds per week (8-12 rounds each 4 weeks), approximately a month passes between each chapter. That means that of the total of rounds they play in a month's time, each chapter narrates one of them and possibly makes mention to at least one of the remaining. Also, my apologies to those who were waiting for an update, for being so, so damned late. Health issues.

" _I dare you to take a week off of work_ - _-_ entirely _! Leave Kirishima commanding the ship, or something_ - _\- and take me camping."_

*

The arrival at the woods; a black pick-up with Takaba on the driver seat. Soon after leaving Fukushima behind, Asami's internal grin held understanding and not a shade of a doubt. No need to spoil the boy's very much welcome attempt at a surprise, however. He held back the proof of his enjoyment and only let it slip out, in his naturally smug smirking manner, as soon as the hint of Shirakami-Shanchi* could be caught by the naked eye. Nostalgia filled him, as well as no little amount of anticipation.

The first hours of the first day winded by swiftly; Takaba's forefinger tapping insensately; the shutter pulsing light in and out. Soon-to-be photographs of birds; a whole lot of them, all around, big ones and quiet ones - _-_ with broad wings and predatory gazes, the eagles planning in rounds, high and low - _-_ and smaller ones and noisy ones - _-_ woodpeckers doing their wood-pecking. Of plants; default green and unnatural deep-blue and every color of the visible spectrum. Animals; curious and peeping and frightened and peeping all the same and hiding, sometimes, a lot of times. Of Asami. Asami looking at him. Right through him. A shudder cracked his defenses. Hazel zeroing-in and burning; he moved the camera slightly, just so his eye was looking directly at the other man; _directly_ , instead of through the lens. "Angry? Gonna steal my camera?"

"Not today, no." Asami replied; as simple as that.

He really is simple too, Takaba thought of and to himself. "You ever went camping before?"

"Yes." It was near; the nigh-undistinguishable sound of walking, running, never stopping flow of water on Asami's ear. His sharp vision following the direction apprehended and his feet catching the drift. Anmon No Taki* sounded as beautiful as ever.

Later, as Asami tugged the t-shirt back on top of the long-sleeved one, skin mostly dry after the quick dive, memories of a stoic-faced Kirishima almost giddy with the prospect of him taking a vacation flooded in and made him chuckle. The noise in the brushes reached him and he acknowledged it, but disregarded it soon after, saving it for a later time. He'd take care of it after appreciating Takaba and his adventure above ground. The faux-blond had wanted to get a close-up of the monkeys and the sky-scrapping trees weren't obstacle enough to keep him from it. A primate himself, the boy's hands and feet against the wood and leafs and he got it - _-_ a great… _the_ perfect shot - _-_ _of course he would_ , and Asami's back was against the tree opposite, his teeth showing barely when the "Whoooaa - _-_ _!_ " and the thud and the "Ouch _!_ " and when Takaba's ass met the ground.

His hand got predictably swatted away when he extended it to help Takaba up.

*

" _I dare you to go out tonight, to a place of your choice, and charm someone, gender also of your choice, and spend the night with them."_

_The silence that extended after Asami's challenge was expected. As well as the outburst that followed and didn't let him continue from where he had purposely left off._

" _What..._ what the fuck _, Asami? Are you - _-_ are you telling me to... to_ cheat _on you? You might go fucking around on me, but don't go putting me in the same bag as you, you shameless pig!"_

_Takaba was met with Asami's unassailable amusement. "I am pleased that the thought of doing such a thing as a betrayal towards me provokes in you such outrage. However, don't be mistaken, Akihito. I had not yet finished when you saw fit to interrupt. My words were 'spend the night with the person'. I made no mention of 'how', and 'what to do' during that period of time." The smoke wafted by Asami seemed to dance a smirk in the air. "Also... do not think I will let that 'shameless pig' slide." And then disperse._

_Flushed, Takaba became. He wanted to grab the revolver and chunk it at the sadistic bastard's perfectly shaped head and, with some luck, leave his permanent mark there._

" _So, from your initial reaction, is it safe to assume you will refuse?"_

" _Hell,_ no _!" Takaba stood up swiftly,_ _a force to be reckoned, a typhoon. G_ _azed down at Asami, his eyes ablaze. "I'll do it."_

*

Landscapes, of the most beautiful he would ever lay eyes and viewfinder upon. Takaba zoomed in and exhaled. Nothing could ruin the moment. The clear blue meeting the hoard of unending life of forest, just a little more to the left and - _-_ _Wrong_.

The yakuza glanced at his partner from the corner of his eye. "What?" A zipping noise rising upwards.

Takaba blinked. "No, it's just... you peeing out here in the open is just, you know... surreal imagery." Scrubbed his lids. Blinked again.

Asami inwardly scoffed, outwardly smirked. "Where did you want me to satisfy my physiological necessities? Don't tell me you actually believe I have a rest room inserted in the car or something of the kind."

A snarl deep from the throat, Takaba's fangs were bared. "No need to be a jerkass, it just never crossed my mind, is all."

Asami gave Takaba _the look_. "That is because you are an idiot." And the half-smile, as he turned to the younger man and made a motion to his yet-to-button-up-to-the-top jeans. "Want to give me a hand?"

Takaba gave Asami the finger.

*

 _Takaba was supposed to be_ _feeding Ashura a_ _delicious_ _mouse from the freezer_ _; tender, after presented to ambient temperature for a while, waiting to be swallowed and melted by stomach fluids for days. But the kid just loved dangling the dead little animal by the tail and teasing the snake with it. And the sadistic, morbid one was Asami. Sure_ _, it was still true_ _._ _And_ _Asami would_ _indulge the boy, yet again;_ _let him keep denying his own inherent nature. It was the most entertaining_ _, their eternal society-reversed and characteristic Two Steps Forward, One Step Back_ _._

' _So noisy'. Asami went to_ _answer_ _the door,_ _a_ _cigare_ _tte sandwiched between_ _lips._

" _Inariya Takatoshi and_ - _\- "_

" _Noyama Kousaka_ - _\- "_

"" - _\- FBI. Asami Ryuuichi, you are under arrest."_ _"_

" _Cute. There are two clowns at the door, Akihito. Friends of yours?" Asami's tall frame bent forward for him to light his unlit stick on Takato's lit one. "I knew you would ask for back-up."_

" _Stop indirectly kissing my straight friends." Takaba nagged._

" _How about directly kissing the not so straight ones?" Asami asked, as he threw an accusing look at Kou._

 _Smiling a bit nervously, Kou crossed his arms in from of his body._ " _Ha! Asami-shi (*) developed a sense of humor since last month ~ "_

 _Asami touched the filter to his full lips, lingering. "Apparently, Kousaka-_ kun _, so did you."_

" _It's still the effect of the fasting on smokes and booze, probably. Don't get used to it, guys. He'll be back to his holy bastard self soon." Takaba kept muttering. "Unfortunately."_

" _Takato, I will be entrusting Akihito to you then. I have no doubts you are more than capable of handling two punks still wet behind the ears, yes?"_

 _Kou was knocking_ _the rigid protein on the tip of his fingers on_ _the vivarium when Ashura moved suddenly. "Wah!_ Shit, _I'll_ never _get used to this little guy."_

" _It is a female. And 'little' must be synonym of 'longer than I am' in your dictionary." Asami picked up his holster from the table._

" _...'That a joke? Two jokes in a space of five minutes?" Kou's mouth opened in exaggerated shock. His black hair like a whip, turning from Asami to where Takaba… had been. Just moments ago. Not anymore. He spoke louder, to the general direction to where his friend has gone. "You sure it's just the withdrawal that caused this, Aki? Shouldn't you get a doctor or somethin'?"_

_The oldest man in the room took a sure step closer and Kou, smart guy that he is, made a run for the bedroom, seeking asylum close to the only one who can tame the beast whose tail he'd stepped on._

*

Flames. Cool blue, starting at the center; angry warm colors blurring into it, around it. A desynchronized dégradé scalding to the touch. Flickering illumination and crackling of burnt wood, the aroma of it blending in with the flowers that opened at the tell-tale of approaching night.

A shiver crept up Takaba's leg, the warmth of Asami's palm being the cause of it as it rubbed incessantly from the knee to the inner thigh. _Sodomy_. Someone give Takaba brain cells without voice-box.

The memory of something brought Takaba up to his knees; hands searching through his back-pack.

"Here. I brought stuff."

Asami looked at the plastic wrapping of dried, powdery like substance. "Marijuana." Sniff. "It's good. Which bank did you rob?"

Takaba grimaced, the side of his mouth twitching, _itching_. "Us lowly commoners prefer to call it weed, ya know?" He rolled a joint. It looked like it had been run over by a truck. Twice. So Asami did them instead.

"...You're good at that."

"As at anything else." The tongue of the Devil licked at it; saliva gluing the paper together.

Takaba followed his pink muscle with his eyes. "Could you be more self-confident than you already are?"

"Depends on the area. But most likely, no."

They got high pretty fast. _Takaba_ got high pretty fast, that is. Asami remained completely collected, as he ought at all times. In His Mobstership's case, the joint gets stoned from being smoked by him, not the other way around.

"It fits you." Takaba looked up at Asami, with no little reverence, although hidden, his eyes heavy and glazing over softly. The picture of _Asami_ _,_ _diving from high above, splashing, ev_ _en the water opening way for him_ _to_ _pass_ on his mind. "The wildness of the Nature. Just as it does the class of an indoors resort in the metropolis. I can't decide if you're a chameleon or if it is the surroundings that mold themselves to fit in with you."

"If I'm a chameleon, then you are my meal, little moth." Asami licked Takaba's neck, long and slick, like he did to the rolling paper.

It was Takaba's turn to look like he'd been run over by a truck after they were done. Health points at fifty percent, he stepped into the asphalt once again.

Run over by a truck once, run over by a truck twice.

*

 _Asami_. He stood there, atop the hill, unafraid of the strong gush of wind coming from the South. The small but no less functional sparkle caged by one hand, cigarette tilted by lips until it cast on fire and at the very end it glowed orange, much like the sunset that now painted the sky in front of him.

"Miyabi told you of this place." Asami said then, snapping Takaba out of his trance.

"Hn. Helped me get the Forest Management's approval, too. She said you'd like it."

"I do." Asami admited. And then he turned again, and continued to take in the sight that lay ahead.

Takaba bit his lip to stop himself from smiling wide.

 _Miyabi_. When Takaba first had met Asakura Miyabi, his immediate thoughts has been diverse and haphazard: _'Whoa, she's hot.'_ and _'Who the fuck is she?'_ and _'Shit, but they look good together_ - _\- '_ Not _!'_ - _-_

*

- _-_ _Dark hair; not long, nor too short, not sparkly; medium_ _length_ _, clean. Big brown eyes, round but incredibly sharp - _-__ _Asami-_ _sharp. Clear, nic_ _e features, not overly feminine._ _T_ _he tiniest_ _of_ _moles just above her upper lit, on the left_ _side, a bare dot. Make-up free._ _S_ _hort fingers nails, digits curling around the giant mug of green tea, no sugar._ _Old j_ _eans and Metallica T-shirt and sneakers abused to the limit. Takaba wouldn't be all that surprised if Asami just went a_ _nd said: "This is my daughter."_ _except he_ would _because they were probably the same age. But Asami surely had one, or two, or a thousand time travelling machines stuffed up and left his glorious asshole. Hell, Takaba'd take anything: new lover, cousin, wife,_ _neighbor_ _, pet, …_

_Everything. Anything. Except what he got._

" _Akihito. This is my friend, A - _-_ "_

 _Takaba stopped listening at 'friend'. Friend._ Friend. Asami's. _"Friend?"_

" _Best friends." She piped. Voice smooth, androgynous, like the rest of her._

 _Takaba's brain stopped functioning. No, not_ really _but…_ _Asami's phone_ had _been unavailable, for hours, which was in itself weird. Ha_ _d_ _it been occupied, Asami would have picked up his call, regardless if he were in the middle of a business_ _call_ _on the other line. Takaba didn't really think about it at those times but now he thought Asami might have been spoiling him by doing so,_ the bastard _, because one of the rare times he couldn't come into contact with Asami take_ _s_ _place_ _,_ _and it was such a stupid thing_ _,_ _but he was getting_ annoyed _._ Severely _annoyed. He_ _'d_ _called_ _Kirishima_ _then_ _("Asami-sama has gone personally to retrieve an important acquaintance f_ _rom the airport.), which hadn't mad_ _e him feel any less irritated_ _because the damn Spectacles had_ _apparently still not forgiven him for... whatever it was Takaba had done last, clearly pleased in giving such a vague but still implying enough answer, with the obvious goal of creating some_ _sort of…_ jello- _like feeling? No, Takaba_ _had a fleeting thought that it was_ _maybe a concept pretty similar sounding to that, a_ _nd_ _just as viscous,_ _but he could_ _n't_ (still can't) _quite put his finger on it. Ha, as if Takaba would! '...Shit. Damn him. And damn_ him _. To hell and back.'_

 _So when he'd gotten home to Asami and a woman and travelling bags…_ Well _._

_In the end what had ensued was all but small-talk. Thirty years old, she was. A veterinarian. A full-fledged Wild Life explorer. Takaba warmed up to her like a just-born chick to its mother as soon as the egg shell cracked open._

" _Ah, Miyabi, why don't you stay over? We can play aaall night ~ !"_

Miyabi laughed dryly. " _You just want a pajama party and an excuse to sleep in Ryuuichi's bed. Punk."_

 _Ears gone red, Takaba clicked his tongue. "Ha, as if! I'll sleep on the couch,_ the couch _. Or I can roll a futon on the ground somewhere."_

" _Uh-huh."_ _A_ _snick_ _er later_ _and_ _she downed a gulp of her beer. The p_ _hone_ _in her_ _pocket_ _rang and she put Tekken on pause_ _("Hey, I was winning!)_ _. A few minutes of seemingly indifferent_ - _-_ or so her tone conveyed - _-_ _conversation_ _went by_ _._ _B_ _ut Miyabi's eyes the mask betrayed_ _,_ _and the_ _real excitement shone through. She hang up and looked at Asami. "Ryuu._ _T_ _he ship_ _has_ _arrived._ _What will you do?_ _Will you_ _keep_ _one?"_

" _What are you talking about?" Takaba asked, confused._

" _You'll see." Asami was already up, getting his long coat and diving his feet into his Italian shoes. "Lets go. Nagasaki Harbor?"_

_Miyabi swallowed the last droplets of bitter, golden liquid, licking around the edges in a rush. "Edo-wan." Hiccups. "Subaru."_

_Metal scratching polished wood. Asami got the key from the drawer and tossed it at her._

_Takaba still didn't know what was going on but the glint on both Asami's and Miyabi's orbs made him tingle with them. Miyabi was a blast behind the wheel just as Asami was a beast in bed. Takaba was pretty sure she wouldn't be any less in bed herself. And he had even less doubts that she raced. He'd have to get a confirmation out of her and talk her into taking him with her. It'd be awesome. Even the thought of leaving Asami in the shadows about it was ridiculous; being straight-forward and dragging him along would be for the best, really. And as much as Asami would bitch about it being dangerous for him, Takaba was confident in Asami's adrenaline addiction to win above it all. It had been more than pleasant when Asami hadn't even resisted and had just told him to be prepared to eat dust ("Take a mask with you. We don't want you suffering from anaphylactic shock in the middle of the circuit, do we now?") but the bastard just couldn't forget once and for all about Takaba's little, insignificant allergy, could he?_

_When asked how they'd met Asami_ _had_ _succinctly explained_ _,_ _in elaborate_ _d detail_ _,_ _how he'_ _d been in Brazil_ _for a business trip eleven ye_ _ars_ _prior. Curiously, his dealings had been_ strictly _legal that time around but somehow one of his business partners' was not._ _Endangered species traffic. Miyabi and her team had been_ _in the area, volunteering in the Association that covered_ _most of the country, had_ _caught wind of it and wouldn't l_ _et it go. Turns out Asami, cold-_ _hearted prick that he is, doesn't bat an eyelash at transporting fellow Human beings for slavery but has a thing for the so-called 'irrational' slice of the Animal Kingdom - _-_ a really big thing that isn't restricted to k_ _ittens;_ and _despite Asami abhor_ _ring_ _irrationality when it came to people. What to say, it's one of his many attractive traits, that eternally mysterious contradiction. Past a small misunderstanding in which Miyabi handed Asami on his ass, winning the_ _title_ _of the only person who had ever beat him in hand-to-hand combat, they_ _'d pulled a_ _Shounen Jump move - _-__ _en_ _emy_ _-_ _turns_ _-friend_ - _-_ _and paired together to take out the bad guys. They hit it off in the non-sexual sense_ _('Unthinkable, right?')_ _from then and never lost co_ _ntact. Asami i_ _sn't a sore loser and had_ _had_ _no problem admitting defeat. He_ _had been_ _impressed. Openly so. Of course, he beat the next time they had a match. Kirishima kep_ _t_ _the score rigorously even though it never strays from even ground_ _even to the present day_ _._

 _Miyabi was not only a vet but a_ _maniac for searching, exploring and conquering_ _and as such she spent practically all year out of the country. That explained why Takaba has never seen her before, in the whole sixteen months he'd been involved with Asami. The photographer vehemently refused to refer to the_ _period_ _of time compressed between the initial point A (_ _in which he met Asami)_ _,_ _and point Y_ ( _which_ _refers_ _to the current day)_ _as_ _:_ _one year and four months. From the moment Takaba_ _went and used_ _the time unity correspondent to the period of translation of the Sun revolving_ _around_ _the Earth_ _to encompass their relationship it would be_ The End _._ _'What starts_ _with a Big Bang_ _,_ _ends with a Big Bang_ _'_ _and Takaba isn't nearly half-_ _prepared to admit to the normal-sized people_ outside _of his mind that he's been_ dating _a crime lord_ _for_ more than a fucking year already _, a year and a half practically and_ _counting_ _,_ _and still not having come to his right mind and taking off like he_ should have _. It's taken a lot already, for him to admit_ that _to the little people living_ inside _his head._

 _A sigh left Miyabi's lips._ " _I'll go make dinner for the three of us then." The couch creaked gently as she rose from it._

_Asami chuckled as he turned the page of the book he was reding. "Just try not making at least one meat dish and you will meet Akihito's terrifying side."_

Takaba's eyes shot up. " _Huh? You a vegetarian, Miyabi?"_

" _I am. So if you want meat, come here and prepare it yourself."_

" _...What an incredibly selfish person."_

" _Selfish? With just this?" _Asami lit himself a cigarette, passed it on to Miyabi and lit another for himself. S_ moke was exhaled. "Akihito. You have seen _nothing _yet."_

 _And Takaba_ still _couldn't believe_ _what his_ _eyes_ _had observed_ _moments before_ _("You serious? I thought you'd throw me out the second I brought a puppy home, said he'd followed me and asked if we could keep it."). Snakes. Some dozens of them. A hundred, perhaps. Miyabi and her people had rescued them from being skinned alive and turned into clothing a_ _nd accessories a couple of days_ _prior. Some of them ha_ _d_ _already been_ _returned to their habitats; that one_ _particular shipment ha_ _d been carefully selected and_ _come to be sold properly in Japan as pets_ _._

_Takaba had found he was not nearly as freaked as he ought to at the prospect. The penthouse won a vivarium and an additional freezer to maintain Ashura's organic food the following day._

*

This forest was Asami and Miyabi's favorite location for climbing activity, and _that_ little detail Miyabi had occulted from Takaba, and _Asami knew, of course_ _, he knew_ , the smirk digging into his features further. In a matter of seconds straps were tightly coiling around Takaba like vines and tied up, securing him by the groin and thighs, a helmet firm in his head. Soon his boots, the soles of them, rasped against inclined rock, solid, sometimes splinters and sediments making the climb and descent tricky, making him more aware, more excited with the danger and unpredictability of it. And whenever he looked at Asami - _-_ ahead of him climbing up; below him while coming down; beside him at every other time - _-_ he knew the other man was feeling exactly the same thrill.

Takaba was in awe; the view, breathtaking. Taking in the sight all around; the skies, so blue, _so fucking blue_. The trees, so tall and green and wood and _alive_. The ground, the unseeing ground, from so high above. The earth; the smell of it. Water; flowing under it. The trails of ants hard at work, or the bees collecting pollen for nectar fabrication; their existence known but, for the moment, nowhere in sight. The stone underneath his digits, warmed from the Sun, yet cold devoid of a life of its own and still holding his, _their_ lives, his and Asami's, dangling from itself by a threat.

When they finished the route, at the same checkpoint where they had begun, Takaba was struggling to get rid of the constriction, desperately, when Asami grabbed him by the back of the thighs and held him afloat until his back bumped into the body of the nearest tree. He held Asami's hair between his fingers, bruising kisses against his lips between murmurs. "Take it off, Asami. Take it off. _Take it off._ " Takaba was so hard, brushing and burning, against the fabric coating his cock, against Asami's own erection both. Digits probing at his lips, seeking entrance, receiving it; digits - _-_ his or Asami's, his _and_ Asami's - _-_ pulling at the restraints, at his pants, ridding Takaba of it all. Saliva coated now, in and out, as Takaba's ankles dug never ending transparent holes into Asami's lower back, before being replaced by hotter, slicker, wider flesh. So good, the thrusting heat, Takaba's shirt caught on a branch, leaving a nipple uncovered for Asami's mouth to suck and nip at. His side, ravaged by the uneven scrap off wood. Asami's elbow, peeled skin from the roughness of the surface it lay supporting them both upon. Asami's breath, warming the spot on his throat, making Takaba squirm. So much heat. Burning with the setting of the sun. And melting with it. Skin sweaty-slick, sliding down until meeting with the ground. Then, bodies slack and relaxed and glowing, they returned to the camping site, where their sleeping-bags awaited their worn-out bodies to slack down upon.

*

 _Takaba m_ _et Furude Pino-san on the Mahjong parlor and spen_ _t_ _the night with her and her lady friends playing and drinking tea with a_ _stick_ _of cinnamon in her house. There was a pair of old cats, antique_ _pieces of tapestry and_ _candelabr_ _ums_ _,_ _a heater_ _and a round table with a white_ _lace towel_ _on top that, inadvertently, reminded Takaba too much of_ _a certain other round table. Tenpai_ _*_ _._ _Not._ _A moment of distraction and he l_ _ost and would have to accompany_ _the ladies_ _to the theater on the twenty seventh, when he had to cover a political meeting at the Parliament._ Damned Asami. Damn him for _everything._ _Takaba go_ _t home with dark circles under his eyes_ _,_ _t_ _oo_ _k a glance at Asami's_ way- _too-amused mug, spa_ _t some colorful curses along with a monosyllabic: "Don't_ even _start." and slither_ _ed_ _like a_ _nasty little slug to the bed. He was_ _half-way to rapid eye movement already when his arm stretched and pull_ _ed_ _the lo_ _g out of the drawer. The pen did_ _n't work as well as it should, ink failing here and there in little missing dots_ _,_ _but it g_ _ot the update done and that wa_ _s what matter_ _ed_ _._

 _It was only the following day, when he still had_ _only one foot_ _outside_ _his bedroom_ _and already The Devil wa_ _s whispering at his ear ("Do you even_ know _how to play Mahjong?"). If only it was purely his overly fertile imagination playing tricks on him. No such luck. "Your_ _intel_ _network is way too fast. Your goons are already reporting to you what I'm doing_ before _I'm_ _doing it."_ _He didn't even try to take the remaining foot out and started turning back inside._

 _Enjoying the bitter burn of coffee down his throat, as well as the blond's utterly disheveled apearance, Asami teased_. " _Kirishima was there, per_ _chance. It was hi_ _s rare day off. He plays Mahjong. He also_ knows how to play."

" _Excuse me for not laughing at your lame attempt at making me the butt monkey of the joke. That punch line's way over used and I'm dead tired. Oh, and my ass is out of service today, so don't even barge into my room, yeah? 'Night."_

" _It is morning. As you believe it to be night time - _-_ _ yesterday' _s night time - _-_ your 'today' is in reality referring to 'yesterday'. That being said, don't lock your door if you don't wish for me to shoot it down. And your ass was put to very good use yesterday, if I say so myself, so that 'out of service' sign is incorrect in every way."_

" _Bite me." Takaba slammed door; his patience none for mind games at unGodly hours.._

 _Asami put down the cup. Grab_ _bed_ _the gun. 'Akihito. You are_ begging _for it.'_

*

 _Of course_ Asami would be a fucking pro at mounting a fucking tent. The pile of wood gathered in Takaba's arms, prickling into his tank top, breaching one more whole into the fabric. _Greeeat_. Takaba was brooding. His hooded-jacket got peeled off of him by his own hands and used for carrying the firewood back. After the damage had been done, but - _-_ _Oh, well_. Takaba was childishly brooding. Still.

"I can't believe you brought a gun with you."

"I can't believe you thought I wouldn't bring a gun with me." Asami's fingers flicked the survivor's knife like it would a fly, so easily, effortlessly - _-_ _Damn him_. It cut thought the air and perforated raw flesh. Takaba's aim was good, too, and his bullet didn't stray from their shared target. Bullet and blade to the same hand. Double hole-slash-gash through flesh, blood and bone. More rustling from the bushes mixed with a tempered cry of pain and something falling to the ground.

"See?" Takaba grinned. "No need for _you_ to bring a gun. I'll protect you."

"A softy like you? Hardly." Asami scoffed.

That hit the sore spot. "Shut up, cold-blooded murderer."

No sign of being affected in the least from Asami's side. "There is no murder. This time. And it was legitimate self-defense."

"My ass."

"Your ass doesn't know a thing about self-defense. Literally."

Takaba's eyes rolling far, _far_ to the back. _Disregard the pun, disregard it,_ disregard it _._ "Hey… don't underestimate someone who's been putting up with your shit for as long as I have."

"Oh? Then will you finish the job now?" Asami's brow rose.

"If you wanted him dead you'd have got him straight in the head. _I_ may be soft. But you're not. Or is your aim getting _that_ bad?"

The dark-haired male's mouth curved in a smirk.

Takaba huffed, clearly exasperated. "So what, you knew I'd bring you to this place and that there was a hitman targeting you and that he'd followed you and that he'd be taking the change right here, right now?"

Asami's gaze softened slightly. "Perhaps there is still some hope for you, after all. Now, Akihito..." He got a rope from the bag, took it in both hands and gave it a teasing pull. "...Why don't we practice your knots?" Fully formed smirk now, adorning his features.

Takaba wrapped the guy like one would a turkey on Thanksgiving after Asami had knocked him out with a whack in the back of the head and neck.

"This is _so_ incredibly _fucking_ romantic. Here we are, lying on the grass, gazing at the moon and stars with an assassin passed out and tied up to a tree behind us." Takaba mocked, but real entertainment was there too.

Asami killed the butt on his pocket-ashtray. "The current complaints book is full at the moment, I'm afraid. You will have to wait for the next exemplar to arrive."

Takaba's laughs spread in the open space, meshing with the low but not exactly imperceptible cries of the nocturne insects. "Nah... I wouldn't exchange _this_ for much else."

Body turning, Asami's eyes on Takaba's ones. Real curiosity there. "What would you change it for?"

Making a show of thinking hard, Takaba scrunched his eyes. "Hmm…" And then opened them wide. "Pudding?"

Asami's voice craddled a chuckle. "Of course. And I wouldn't have _you_ any other way."

"...Asami?"

"Yes?"

"It's been four days."

"One round? Go get the revolver."

" _You_ go get it _._ "

Asami rose a brow higher while narrowing his eyes. _Do you_ seriously _expect me to?_

"It's too far awaaay..." Takaba whined.

Asami wasn't impressed. "Since when does distance impede you from reaching out for what you wish, stubborn to a fault as you are?"

Takaba made a face. "...Why do you have to make even the slightest compliment sound condescending? Freak." Getting up, slow and rotten, similarities Takaba shared with an old man with rheumatism.

"Good boy." Asami murmured. "I have brought your pocky. Help yourself to a stick. Just one. Moderation is an important requirement."

Takaba fumed a long and ugly curse all the way to the car but still came back with the revolver in hand, putting the shell in place with a stick of biscuit and chocolate dangling from the corner of his mouth. Deed done, standing on his feet, Asami's own form down beneath his. Takaba touched the pocky with indicator and middle finger and mimicked an exhale of gasified nicotine. He narrowed his eyes to half their width and pulled out his most arrogant smile - _-_ the one he uses when goading after winning over Mitarai. When he spoke, his voice a whisper, a few octaves lower. The ice-cold metal of the barrel loosely brushing along Asami's bent knee. "Good boy. Help yourself to your own hand sometime. Just once. Moderation is required."

Asami didn't smirk for once; he grinned, and his amber circles flashing were Takaba's only warnings. Having his supportive lower limbs swiped from under him, the photographer's ass smacked against the mixture of soft grass and hard earth and little sharp stones. He _was_ asking for it but still. "Wasn't that really childish of you, Mr. Maturity?" Takaba squeaked; indignation at the other man's token of action. His pain half-grunted, Takaba dragged himself on his knees to sit beside Asami. He paused on the way there to retrieve the snack that had gone bungee-jumping as he fell.

Asami accepted the gun and the glare thrown his way with unconcealed amusement. He verified the first before putting it to rest in between them, in a brown spot of dirt, free of green leafs sprouting from the underground.

"Truth." Takaba stubbornly shot.

Asami was right there with him. "Is it true that you are afraid of me, even now?"

"..." After a pause, a smile breached Takaba's lips. As well as through Asami's perfectly elevated defenses. "Yeah... Not the same kind of fear as before, at the beginning, but… it's true, that I'm afraid of you all the same."

And Takaba said so looking straight at Asami, not giving a damn about the celestial bodies any longer, and Asami found himself wanting to look away, to hide from the vulnerability of Takaba's look, so bright, so heated it offuscated the Moon, a lifeless rock lacking a light of its own, from the honesty of it, from the - _-_ Asami cleared his throat, as well as his mind and focused. It was his turn. "Truth." If the kid had been expecting something else, something more, something…. just _something_ … he covered it pretty well. _Well done._ But 'Well done, Akihito'? Or 'Well done, Ryuuichi'? Poke, deflect, read into it, start over.

Takaba opnede his mouth. He was silent. Thought about it some more. Made a decision. "Is it true that... you would've just… died for me on that damned ship…?"

Not so much uncertain as… hungry, _starving_ for it even. For a confirmation. Just that. Because he already knew the answer, _the damn brat_. _Not that I won't deliver it to you._ "Yes." Asami affirmed. _Here. Now, what will_ you _do about it?_

"Asami..." Takaba said. The coloring on cheeks hiding behind the lack of illumination while the brightness on his eyes was highlighted even more by it.

"Hn." Asami voiced.

"It's been a day."

Corner of lips up, up, up. Eyes open, closing, closed. "One round?"

Sixty kilograms rolled on top of Asami. The brunet opened his eyes and Takaba lowered his head. Their lips brushing.

"One? Don't joke."

Two sources of breath joined in one.

*

Slap. Takaba's palm resting gently on Asami's forehead after having collided full-force against it.

Asami's eyes were horizontal slits and his lips a tight straight line - _-_ which combined resulted in his just-as-rare-as-characteristic unwillingly-awaken-Asami face - _-_ as he surveyed an overly energetic mop of dyed-blond hair. The boy kept kicking and slapping around - _-_ himself _and_ Asami - _-_ in his deep, and far from serene, sleeping state. Getting rid of mosquitoes, most likely. _Attempting to_. It wasn't working at all. The… 'repellent' to keep insects at a distance proving itself ineffective.

Takaba had _insisted_ on buying the thing himself. From the store owned by a 'Ling Chin-san' in Chinatown, no less - _-_ which had Asami slightly squinting in distaste and almost, _almost_ saying something against it, but gathering himself before the whole thing triggered Takaba's major outburst of the day. His migraine was killing him already.

And all of that just because the kid just _had_ to prove, mostly to himself, and maybe, _just maybe_ , to Asami as well, that he wasn't a weak-minded artificial toy with life-changing traumas and most definitely did not hold grudges against every Chinese person populating the face of the Planet.

The itch would be horrible come morning. Asami stretched across the grass and covered them with a blanket. He closed his eyes to the forgotten sleeping-bags by the tent.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (*) Anyone reads/watches Kuroko No Basket? Most likely no, right? Anyway, there's this guy from said fandom, Kise, who's totally Kou, and he refers to anyone he takes a liking to by the honorific -shi/cchi. It's annoying and hilarious. And I just had to get Kou to call Asami by it. I mean, he already calls him -chan in canon, so it can't get much worse (aka hysterical) than that. Stay alive, Kou! :'D
> 
> Shirakami-Sanchi* - ('White God Mountain Area'.) A UNESCO World Heritage Site in northern Honshuu, Japan. This mountainous, unspoiled expanse of virgin forest straddles both Akita and Aomori Prefectures.
> 
> Anmon No Taki* - ('Shadow Gated Falls'.) Triple falls in the World Heritage Site, easily accessible on foot and a popular sightseeing destination.
> 
> Tenpai* - It means one tile short of a winning hand in Mahjong.
> 
> Edo-wan* - ('Edo Bay'.) Presently Tokyo-wan ('Tokyo Bay'), is a bay located in the southern Kantō region of Japan.


End file.
